Welcome to Gaia! ::

His expression flickered, amusement fading somewhat without dissipating entirely. "What? Like, seriously?" She was pulling his leg, right? Everyone knew about the fire and the accompanying festival – it was annual, for crying out loud. Most Kimeti were told about it while they were still in their sacs, the informative nature of it blending seamlessly into the existing mythological tapestry. It would have taken more than absent-mindedness to avoid hearing about it well into adulthood. At least his parents had hammered the significance of the whole event into him on more than one occasion; he'd always just assumed the lessons had been the same for everyone.

Spindrift hesitated for a minute longer, scrutinizing the calm possession in the doe's face, attempting to decide if the question she posed was a legitimate one. Her previous words played again in his ears, the admission of being unlike the rest of her species. For all that it was a pretty general statement, one that he assumed even he had uttered in his lifetime, the buck had to concede to her point. "Okay..." Surreptitiously, he glanced around, prepared to let someone else take over and correct her ignorance in a more traditional fashion. But the one time he genuinely needed it, no one was near enough to eavesdrop and undercut him. It wasn't as though he had ever needed to explain something so basic before, and he found that the answers did not come readily to his tongue. "Never let it be said I didn't bow to the whims of a pretty lady." He exhaled, pondering for a moment before moving forward. "So... basically, there's this fire. It happens a lot; yearly, actually. Stuff's dry, lightning strikes or whatever, that same dry stuff goes up in flames. That's where all the smoke's coming from. It's eating up the forest, making way for, well, you know. You probably get how fires work."

He pawed aimlessly at the ground, getting the sense that he was failing utterly at this explanation thing, but continuing anyway. "The Mound is a safe zone, somewhere that the fire can't reach." Using the tip of his hoof, Spindrift sloppily inscribed the customary pair of slanted lines into the dirt. "Mound's always been here, but this year it got…" He jerked his bearded chin toward the collapsed heap to illustrate his point, the kin atop it resembling nothing so much as an overflowing anthill "Messed up. So they're – we're – fixing it. Once that's over with, everybody celebrates. Dancing, games, gorging yourself sick." He smirked, rolling his shoulders suggestively. "Frolicking in the undergrowth with someone you've taken a shine to. Whatever suits your needs."

Keep True gave a Story a big sisterly nuzzle. “If you can’t handle it let me know straight away.” Another encouraging nudge and Keep True turned, leading the way towards the mound. She kept Story close beside her, keeping a good distance from as many kin as she could, as if afraid they might accidentally trample her dear sister.

But Story had already been noticed by one, and as they approached the mound, another set of eyes found the pretty little Acha…

"Just think how impressed they must be," meticulously sleeking down the locks she had messed up, "to know what incredible feats the Tidewalkers achieve on a regular basis. And doesn't it just behove us to bring the better part of a trade?" Task immaculately completed, she bounded off a side to snap a round, perfect plum by the stem - a rakish nod and a wink as thanks to the Kimeti who guarded it - from a stockpile of glistening fruits, laying it on a dry root before her sister with a flourish: "The sweetest plum for my sweetest plum. Let's make merry before we're called to work again." A dazzling smile that belied the fact she knew her darling Mudlark was incapable of making merry, with so many Swamp Kin to judge.

Lost's face twisted up into a bright smirk. "Because I'm so in tune with the swamp." She nodded. She would find the biggest rock- even if it wasn't the heaviest- and that would be that. Yep. She was that amazing. Oh, but she'd have to find it somewhere in the clearing. She might never find her way back otherwise...

The mound was full of kin, but Keep True managed to find a spot that wasn’t quite as crowded as the rest. It was an area that had mostly been finished, just needing a few finishing touches to make it perfect, and she was keen to begin. “Lets get-“ She never got to finish her sentence.

Something- no someone! – very large and very bright, pushed into her vision and then past her. “Perfect! Utterly beautifully perfect!” Watch Me crowed as he shoved past Keep True to get to Story.

Cornice was starting to really question the overexcited doe's eyesight and if she were one to sneer openly in company, she would have been at this time. She never showed this sheer overflow of emotion and she never came close to feeling anything that was even remotely close to it, let alone the fact that the color of her and Precious' pelts where completely different, Precious definitely took after his father in pelt color, and the doe hadn't even seemed to notice Savager or Caution until Edge had pointed it out. It was as if her eyesight were completely deficient except in finding kin to subject her company to. If mother was completely exasperated by the doe, son, on the other hand, seemed to be amused by her.

The other was being stupid, and it made the little lamb want to laugh at the absurdity of her smiles and constant chatter. His little heart rarely felt more than disregard for others and absolutely devotion for Momma. Though he was entertained for the moment, he also found that he would dislike spending any extended time with her and would much prefer if Momma found someone more quiet than her who smiled less, which, quite frankly, was kind of scary. The lamb always preferred Momma when she wasn't smile, smiling meant that she wasn't being truthful. Despite his silent wishes, Momma spoke to the doe, and the lamb realized this must be a lesson, to be polite even to kin you don't like.

"Yes, he is part Totoma. They do not lay down sacs, rather, Totoma are born ready to be warriors with thick pelts and soon enough, their head and backplates develop. It has been nearly half a moon since his and his sisters' births."

The questions were answered succinctly, with little elaboration for Cornice was finding that she could find no value in cultivating a relationship with this doe.

Shanty fairly whooped at Mudlark's invitation, galloping a circle around her before coming to a canter at her flank, nudging her ahead, "Let's shall! We'll show them what they've been missing." She tossed a stray lock back and peered about the busying Kin with open curiousity, "See anyone who interests you, darling? There're all sorts here right now."

"Watch your step, Sandwalker." The soothing voice came from behind the branching roots of a mangrove at the same time its speaker did, her own silvery-white legs stepping forward slowly. "Just because there isn't sand underfoot doesn't mean there's no danger." Meets-the-Sea smiled and joined her daughter in watching the scene before them, her fanned tail swaying lazily back and forth behind her. Meets was not always the most outwardly affectionate mother and she had always been wandering in and out of her children's lives as they were growing up -- their aunts Desert Spring and Many Voices might seem more of a mother figure to them than Meets herself at times -- but she genuinely loved and cared for her children and her tribe.

"Are you hungry from our journey? There seems to be more than enough food to go around." The mare was a little shocked at the bounty, to be honest -- she had almost forgotten that not all kin lived as she and her family did, off the sparse life to be found in the borderlands. And after the flood, and the strange winter, and the annual fires there was still so much food! She almost didn't know where to look.